For a decade now, Savion Glover has performed a winter concert at the Egg every couple of years or so, exploring a different music genre each time. Back in 2003, he was tapping to Nirvana; a few years later, to Vivaldi, Mendelssohn and Bach. In 2010, he brought a funk band with him.

This year, Glover, who turned 40 in November, has returned to his roots. For Saturday evening's concert at The Egg, he teamed up with legendary jazz drummer and composer Jack DeJohnette, who played with Miles Davis in the 1960s, and his quartet: Don Byron on clarinet and sax, George Colligan on piano and Jerome Harris on bass.

Glover also brought along Marshall Davis Jr., who's been performing internationally since becoming the Star Search Teen Dance champion in 1991. Davis is a great tapper—in his fluid phrases, you can see (and hear) the lineage of graceful, stylish hoofers that came before him. But, compared to Glover, he's earthbound.

It's not just Savion's speed, or his creativity, or his stamina—all of which are awe-inspiring. It's the electricity that seems to course through him, making his steps resonate more richly and his whole body vibrate, as if to some special frequency that only he can tune into. And his dancing has somehow become more powerful and more generous as he ages—he's not playing it cool anymore.

The most memorable part of the performance came in the second half, when Glover and DeJohnette made beautiful music together. First it was a conversation, a call-and-response, as they playfully tossed longer and longer riffs back and forth. Then, without fanfare, the two rippling strands of sound became braided together, dense with changing texture and timbre.

It went on and on, first one man leading, then the other. Glover faced the drummer, not the audience, and the intensity between them never wavered. The drumsticks and the tap shoes swept and jabbed and shuffled and fluttered. Their whole bodies were in it, every part of them alive to their connection and their co-creation. When silence fell at last, the audience rose to its feet.

There was more after that: The guys in the band came back out, along with Davis. DeJohnette even got on the dance floor himself and tapped out a few rhythms. But it was all a denouement in the wake of the two masters' virtuosic duet. With two hands and two feet, a few metal discs and a few square feet of floor, they traveled a long way together, and took us along for the ride.